


A Cat Goes A-Courting

by TrackerKitsune



Series: Aymeric's Grumpy Cat [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Brief description of a wound, Courting Rituals, Fluff, Keeper Miqo'te, Khona'lo Mujuuk, M/M, Male Miqo'te (Final Fantasy XIV), Miqo'te Headcanon (Final Fantasy XIV), Non-graphic Description of a Corpse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26386075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrackerKitsune/pseuds/TrackerKitsune
Summary: An adventurer causes a bit of a stir when he brings Aymeric a present.
Relationships: Aymeric de Borel/Original Character(s)
Series: Aymeric's Grumpy Cat [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2193276
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	A Cat Goes A-Courting

**Author's Note:**

> Alternatively titled "What the Cat Dragged In" because of gremlin brain.

Aymeric stands from his chair as the grey skinned bard walks in, smiling calmly. "Khona'lo, tis good to see you alive and well, and I presume finished with your task in... the…" He trails off at seeing the thing that the miqo'te is literally dragging along behind him. A few temple knights are peering in the door, clearly concerned. "Forgive my asking if this is for a personal matter elsewhere, but why exactly have you dragged a dead dragon into my office?" The Elezen inquires, concerned. He doesn't miss how the keeper puffs up a little and preens.

"'s a present," Khona'lo replies, smugness in his tone. "Can't 'ave ye thinkin' I think nothin' of ya." 

The commander blinks, a dusting of pink on his cheeks. "Perish the thought," he denies, "I doubt you would be going to such lengths to render my people your aid if you thought little of us." He takes in the annoyed twitching of the shorter man's tail with the odd certainty he may have just misspoken. 

"That ain't what I'm talkin' about and ye know it," Khona'lo hisses at him, ears set back. "I know it's a long shot tha' someone like you ain't 'betrothed' or whatever th'word is, but-"

The meaning clicks and it's nearly _a_ _udible_ to everyone, as well as visible as Aymeric's cheeks get a little darker. 

"I am not, actually," he admits almost too quickly, standing and coming out from behind his desk. He stops parallel with the antsy hunter, looking past him to the admittedly impressive corpse on the floor. "Tis a courting gift?" The elezen questions softly, just to be sure, and the wiggling of Khona'lo's ears answers his question easily enough while the keeper himself grumbles; a noise he's fully familiar with by now and knows to mostly ignore. "Well then, it would be remiss of me not to inspect it. Shall we move it out to the main hall so that you can show it off fully?" His hands are quickly batted away, and he acquiesces to the unspoken rule. 

"I can do it," the bard insists, tail waving proudly as he grabs the thing by its sharply clawed feet and drags it back out. Aymeric chuckles softly as he sees the young man's ears are still wiggling happily.

He follows the keeper, watching him lay the dragon out and stretch its wings open carefully; the tail arranged just so in order to not damage the stone floor or the table. Now laid out, he can tell immediately that it’s an amphiptere. “How in Halone’s name did you get that down from the Churning Mists?” He questions immediately, eyebrows raised.

"Got a big ol' draught chocobo from th' hunters in Tailfeather," Khona'lo smirks at him, gesturing for him to inspect the dragon corpse further. "Said they couldn' 'andle it. Got a sled hooked up ta it and dragged yer gift back down the mountain on that." 

"Very impressive and resourceful of you," the Elezen compliments him softly, seeing him puff up happily again and wiggle his ears.

He takes several long minutes with a thorough inspection of the creature, visibly surprised by the good condition of it. It's freezing cold to the touch; the keeper must have packed ice round it to keep it from festering. "You've left its hide in good condition," he murmurs, "a surprisingly clean kill, for one of Nidhogg's brood." To his surprise, Khona'lo scowls. "Have I misspoken?"

"Nah, 's just it ain't so clean," he admits with a grumble, lifting the amphiptere's head. Aymeric makes a soft "ah" as he sees the tear in its chest. The keeper huffs. "Wan'ed ta keep the belly scales clean, figured ye could line another coat with 'em to keep ya from gettin' shanked again. Bastard thing ripped the arrow out isself though and tore its own scales up," he explains, annoyed, but the commander is still touched by the sentiment.

"I will just ask the artisans to use the back scales, then," he reassures him, "it won't be wasted. Come now, I believe in reciprocating such thought out gestures. Would you care to join me for dinner this evening? I would be very interested in discussing where this will lead us." The lord commander smirks himself as Khona'lo's cheeks turn a fetching shade of wine red.

"Aye, I'd like that... W-What time were ye thinkin?"


End file.
